


Hot as Breath, Hot as Blood

by St_Salieri



Series: Alpha!Buffy and Omega!Dean [2]
Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Supernatural
Genre: Alpha/Omega, Crossover, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-19
Updated: 2014-05-19
Packaged: 2018-01-25 17:23:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,815
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1656449
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/St_Salieri/pseuds/St_Salieri
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Buffy has never been attracted to an omega before.  Then again, she's never met someone like Dean Winchester.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hot as Breath, Hot as Blood

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [](http://a-b-o-ladies.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://a-b-o-ladies.livejournal.com/)**a_b_o_ladies** , with alpha!Buffy and omega!Dean. Takes place during BtVS S4 (pre-series SPN, during Sam's first year of being away at college).

 

It was another week before Buffy saw the mysterious vampire-fighting omega – Dean – again.

"There's something up with you," Willow accused when she caught Buffy staring moodily at herself in the mirror. "You've been weird this whole week. Did Xander say something stupid again? Because you know he totally doesn't mean it."

"Huh?" Buffy turned away from inspecting her patrol outfit – just checking her clothes for smudges or tears, definitely _not_ seeing whether her lipstick was just the right shade in case she happened to run into someone while she was out. No one in particular, of course.

"Huh?" she repeated, even more inanely, once she realized that she had totally spaced out and Willow was giving her the raised eyebrows of roommately concern. Then Willow blinked and grinned knowingly.

"Oh, I get it. You've met someone, haven’t you?" she said.

"What? No, I haven't." Buffy turned away for one last primp in the mirror and went to grab a couple of stakes and a knife, just in case.

"You so have. You've been all...moony. Is it that cute TA in Professor Walsh's class? Because I could swear he's been checking you out."

"The fact that you're this excited about my nonexistent love life is in no way disturbing," Buffy muttered, but she was disarmed by the strength of Willow’s pout. Supposedly the fact that they'd been best friends for years would have made her immune by now, but apparently Willow had secret powers.

"It's nothing," she hedged. "Really. It's just..."

"You've met someone?" Willow finished triumphantly.

Buffy glared. "'Met' being the operative word," she said. "It's not a big deal – I mean, we barely talked – but...."

"...pheromones?"

Buffy sighed and collapsed onto her bed, Willow mirroring her pose on the bed opposite.

"It was last week at the Bronze. Remember when I went out back to take care of that vamp?"

She filled Willow in on the brief but memorable meeting of the Mysterious Dean (and Buffy felt only slightly pathetic that she thought of him that way – capital M and everything).

"Wow," Willow breathed. "And he fights vampires too? Sounds like a bonus."

"I know, right?" Buffy said. "Clearly a guy who knows his way around a knife fight...and that shouldn't sound so incredibly hot but it _totally_ is." She found herself letting out an almost girlish giggle, which...wow. She couldn't remember having this reaction to a guy since....

"Hey there, missy," Willow said sternly. "What did we say about certain vampires whose names start with A and rhymes with...uh, nothing that I can think of?" And Buffy was seriously going to have to look into the whole Willow having secret powers thing, because apparently one of them was mind reading.

"I didn't say his name!" she protested, because thinking clearly didn't count.

"I know," Willow said softly. "And I know how things ended between you. It's my job as your best friend to continue to insist that he's the suckiest vampire who ever sucked for leaving like he did."

"Is this the part where you tell me to go out and have fun and live my life?" Buffy asked sourly. "Because I believe you were there for the badness that is Parker Abrams."

Willow threw a decorative pillow at her.

"I won't deny that your taste in guys has leaned toward the tragic," she said impishly, dodging the pillow as Buffy threw it right back at her. "But...I don't know, it sounds like there's something different about this guy." She paused and cleared her throat. "Is it because he's an omega? Because it's totally okay if you're attracted to that!"

Buffy threw her arms over her face and groaned aloud. Even though huge amounts of progress toward true biological equality had been achieved over the last few decades, there was still a traditional part of society that insisted that alpha/omega pairings were the only morally and biologically correct way to couple – that it was the way nature intended. Willow had become pretty vehement on the subject when she joined the Alpha-Omega Alliance in high school, and Buffy had joined her at a couple of rallies and petition drives to protest bigotry against alpha/alpha and omega/omega couples. As a teenage girl trying to deal with being an alpha _and_ being the Slayer, she'd been more than happy to fight against stupid rules about biological determinism and who she was supposed to paired with. Besides, she'd been (mostly) happily in love with her very own alpha guy.

It was weird that Angel being an alpha had been almost as much of an issue as the fact that he was so much older than her. And, well, undead.

"You don't think it's...old-fashioned?" she asked Willow, arms still over her face.

"What, you being attracted to an omega?" Willow snorted. "Oh, please. There's nothing wrong with that – just like there's nothing wrong with you being attracted to an alpha. That's the whole point – you're not _supposed_ to be any one way!"

Buffy sighed and dropped her arms.

"I know," she admitted. "It just feels weird. I've never really had the hots for an O-guy before." Which was pretty much true – poor Owen Thurman notwithstanding.

"...and you're worried that you might feel something with him that you didn't feel with Angel?" Willow asked delicately. Buffy sat up and glared at her.

"Okay, now you're just being creepy."

"No, your brain is just being very loud and obvious," Willow countered. "Look, I get that you've been burned. But you're totally overthinking things. Number one, you may never see this guy again." Buffy deflated a bit, and Willow hurriedly raised a second finger. "And number two, if you do...maybe you'll find that the chemistry was all slayage-induced and he's not even that cute. But number three – and this is the fun one – maybe you'll meet up again and he'll be exactly as hot as you remember, and you'll find that meeting a cute omega doesn't mean that you're _destined_ to only be with O-guys, and that it doesn't mean that what you felt for Angel wasn't real."

Buffy scowled and rolled off the bed, grabbing her stakes.

"I'm going to be late for patrol," she muttered. "And since when did you become the relationship guru anyway?"

"You'll thank me later," Willow said breezily. "Hopefully by sharing some of the not-too-dirty details."

She looked so puppy-dog-eager that Buffy couldn't help laughing and giving her a hug of gratitude before heading out on her nightly patrol.

 

 

********************

 

 

With the imminent arrival of finals week, the campus felt almost deserted. All of the students who had spent the entire semester in a haze of partying and drinking had apparently had eleventh-hour epiphanies about their grades and were huddled together in libraries and dorm rooms main-lining caffeine and trying to avoid the onset of sheer panic. The ones who didn't need to panic – the Willows of the campus – were sleeping the sleep of the just and the well-prepared.

Either way, it meant for an incredibly boring patrol, which just gave Buffy more time to think. Which was usually bad and dangerous.

As luck would have it, she hadn't had time to turn the Mysterious Dean situation over in her mind more than once or twice before she rounded the north side of Fischer Hall and almost collided with the man himself.

"Whoa!" He reached out an arm and steadied her, and Buffy took about two seconds to note that he was exactly as hot and smelled exactly as good as the first time she'd seen him, before she schooled her face into an expression of mild surprise.

"Hey...Dean, right?" she said breezily, as if she hadn't been obsessing about his stupid name and his stupidly pretty eyelashes for the better part of a week.

"Buffy," he said with a little smirk that as good as said _of course you know my name, just as well as I know yours_. "How's my favorite vampire hunter?"

"Slayer," she said automatically, then winced. They hadn't exactly gotten around to discussing job titles yet, and she probably sounded more than a little pretentious.

"Yeah?" Dean asked, and if the way his eyes dilated was anything to go by, he found it hot rather than otherwise. "Seen any of them around recently?"

Buffy looked around the empty campus. "Not so much. Which is good! Quiet can be good."

Dean laughed. "I guess so. Your little town seems to have more than its share of vampires, though."

"Hellmouth," Buffy said with a shrug. "It's a thing." She leaned against the rough brick wall of Fischer Hall and let the cool breeze caress her overheated skin. "Is that why you're here?" she asked as casually as she could. "You go around hunting vampires and monsters?"

The smile Dean gave was a little twisted, just a hint of pain there before he turned it into another flirtatious smirk. "It's sort of what I do," he admitted. "I heard that this place was a hot spot for all kinds of craziness, figured I'd come check it out for myself." He gave her a hot, hungry look, there and gone, and Buffy shivered. "Looks like you've got things pretty well in hand, though."

Buffy knew that, if this was a movie, her character would lean in and give a sultry smile and say something double-entendrey like, "It's not the only thing I've got well in hand," before moving on to something a little more R-rated. But this wasn't a movie, and the only thing she could do was nod stupidly and say, "Uh huh." Damn it. Luckily, Dean didn't seem at all turned off her lack of timely flirting.

"So this is where you go to school?" he asked, looking around at the quiet campus. "College girl by day, Supergirl by night, that kind of thing?"

"Supergirl during the day too," she shot back, and Dean threw back his head and let out a loud bark of laughter.

"Yeah, I saw your work," he said, and wow, he had that hungry look down to an art form. Strangely enough, though, it didn't send her back up the way it did when most other guys looked at her that way. Maybe it was because he was an omega and her stupid inner alpha didn't see him as a challenge. Or maybe it was just because he was Dean.

"You go to school?" she asked, trying to redirect the conversation before she started returning those looks he was giving her. Dean's face clouded over again.

"Not really a college kind of guy," he said shortly. "My brother...he's at college. Stanford." He said that single word with a mixture of pain and pride, and Buffy wondered what his family story was.

"That's a good school," she said cautiously.

"Yeah, Sammy's always been a smart kid," he said, leaning against the wall next to her. Buffy could feel him as a line of heat down the side of her body, even through the oversized leather coat he wore. "We used to hunt together, him and me and our dad." He shrugged casually, but Buffy didn't miss the hurt he wore like the flannel under his leather. "But now he's at school, and Dad and I...well, I'm just taking a bit of a break. Figured I'd check out this Sunnydale place and see what the real story was."

"So...is it everything you hoped it would be?" Buffy said, and winced at the obviousness. But a stupid line was apparently perfect for breaking the air of melancholy that seemed to lay heavy on Dean's shoulders at the subject of his family, because his eyes brightened.

"It just might be more," he murmured, leaning in close and taking an obviously deep breath to catch her scent. Apparently he liked what he found just as much as he had the first night, because he pulled back and gave her a smile. This one was just as full of heat as his previous smirk, but a little softer, a little less intense.

"So, Supergirl," he said, eyes crinkling at the corners. "Care to show me how you run this town of yours?"

They ended up taking a meandering path through the quiet campus, talking softly and occasionally pausing to scope out a noise behind one of the buildings or the suspicious patch of trees behind the athletic center. Buffy usually preferred a solitary patrol – as much as she loved the company of her friends, they were a distraction when she needed to focus her attention on possible demon attacks. But Dean clearly knew something about hunting monsters; he was able to keep an eye on his surroundings, clearly alert for possible danger, and – even better – he had no problem taking her orders when she instructed him to circle the gym to the west while she went around the east side.

She probably shouldn't find it as hot as she did that he obeyed her so easily, but it sent a shiver of hunger up her spine.

By unspoken consensus they kept the topic of conversation away from heavier matters and instead compared notes about weaponry and favorite tactics. Dean laughed when Buffy turned up her nose at the gun he produced from beneath his coat.

"I'm not big on guns," she said. "A fist is much more convenient. You can't drop that."

"Well, not all of us have superpowers," he said easily, tucking the gun away. "Besides, you'd be surprised just how many supernatural pieces of crap will turn tail once you blast them with a little silver or rock salt."

"Yeah, I think I've met some of you hunters before," she said darkly. "Just don't point your guns at anything without checking with me first, okay? Especially werewolves."

"Yes, ma'am," he said, eyes darkening and taking a step toward her. He paused, and suddenly looked like a little kid at Christmas. "Wait, werewolves are actually real? That's awesome!"

She laughed. "Yeah, my best friend was dating one. He was a pretty chill guy, except for three nights out of the month. So no shooting anything without my permission, you got it?"

She tried to sound stern, but Dean took another step closer to her and she found herself craning her head back to look up at him. And wow, he was tall, and possibly even better looking from close up, if such a thing was possible.

"I heard you the first time," Dean said, the smirk back in his voice. "You like giving orders, Buffy?"

It was clearly time for movie!Buffy to make an appropriately dirty and flirtatious reply, but real Buffy just found herself leaning in and scenting, drawing in a suggestion of body heat and warm blood and a spicy-clean fragrance that grew stronger as she inhaled. She could sense the truth of it running through her veins, _omega_ and _arousal_ and _now_.

She glanced up just as Dean leaned down, looking just as hungry as Buffy felt. He caught her face gently between his hands and tilted her head back, and she had time for one shocked inhalation of breath before her mouth opened for his kiss.

The scent of Dean's arousal grew stronger, and Buffy felt her face flame as she knew that her own scent had to be almost overpowering at this point. Dean inhaled through his nose and groaned his pleasure into her mouth, and she felt herself loosen and harden all at the same time. She brought her hands to Dean's neck and ran her fingers through his short hair, dragging his face down to her level, and he followed her lead as easily as he had followed her directions during patrol.

There was something unspeakably hot about the way he let her direct his actions, and with a surge of wild joy she turned and pushed him up against the side of the gym. He smirked and pulled her in, one strong arm about her waist, his power in no way diminished by letting her have the control. He leaned against the building and spread his legs, allowing her to fit between them and aligning them better for another hungry kiss. She leaned against him and shivered as she felt the heat of his erection through his jeans against her stomach. _I did that,_ she thought hazily, and then he latched his mouth onto her neck and she had problems with any further thinking.

"Alpha," he breathed against her, all quiet reverence and lust, none of the challenge she usually associated with the word. She groaned shakily and held his head to her neck, letting her head fall back to stare sightlessly at the dark sky above. And then he disengaged and slid down the wall to kneel at her feet, and she almost fell over until she caught herself on the rough brick all in front of her.

"What...?" she said in protest, because _kissing good don't stop the kissing more more more_ , but Dean latched his fingers around her ankles and ran his hands up her legs under her loose skirt, past her knees and to her inner thighs. He kept his eyes fixed on hers, a clear challenge in them. _Stop me now if you want to stop._ But she didn't want to stop, not in the slightest, and with a shaky nod she gave him permission to continue.

She gave a guttural moan at the first brush of his fingers against the front of her underwear, and she slapped her hand over her mouth when she realized for the first time that they were _outside_ and anyone walking by could hear them. But at the moment she didn't really care, not when Dean was tucking his fingers around the sides of her underwear and drawing them down and off, helping her to step out of them. He looked up at her again, all hunger and strength and submissiveness, all hers, and then he ducked his head under her skirt and Buffy almost shrieked aloud at the touch of his mouth on her sensitive flesh.

It was a good thing that the campus was so deserted, because Buffy didn't think she'd be able to stop if Professor Walsh herself walked by with the entire class and decided to give a tutorial on human sexuality with Buffy as the demonstration.

Buffy spread her legs as far apart as she could and leaned forward, one forearm propped up against the wall of the gym, and the other hand she latched on to the back of Dean's head under her skirt. He ate at her with a hunger that made her bite her own lips bloody in an attempt to keep the moans back. The brush of his stubble on her inner thighs made her blood sing, and the bump of his nose against her clit made her moan before he latched his mouth on and nursed at her with ravenous grunts. She found herself pulling her own shirt up so she could grab hold of her breast and twist the nipple until it ached with a burn that raced between her breast and clit. And she had never, _never_ behaved like this, in public where anyone could see her, as if she was no better than an animal caught in the throes of a mating fever.

She came against Dean's face, into his mouth, and he caught her by the inner thighs and held her tight as her wobbly legs threatened to give out. She moaned her satisfaction to the empty night air and held herself shakily against the wall as Dean slid out from under her skirt and stood to face her again. His face was sweaty and mussed, humid with the scent of her bodily fluids, and Buffy blushed with a mixture of pleasure and shame. Dean's eyes were blown, pupils wide and hungry, and he leaned in and caught her mouth, allowing Buffy to taste herself on his lips.

She felt him fumbling with his belt and reached down to help, shaky fingers fighting with his, and then he was out and in her hand, hard and as beautiful as the rest of him. She wanted to taste him, to devour him the way he had devoured her, to explore the knotless length she held tight in her fingers, but before she got the chance he was coming into her hand with a series of soft grunts.

They leaned together against the wall and panted, kissing softly as they came down and laughing at the adrenaline release. Buffy hid her blushing face against his shirt front as he straightened her skirt and tucked her shirt in (after sneaking his hand in for one quick caress of her breasts).

"Please tell me I did not just do that," she said shakily into Dean's shirt, and she felt as well as head the rumble of his laugh.

"Looks like we did," he said. "But if it makes you feel better...I don't think anyone caught us."

Buffy looked up and snuck a look around, and the cool of the wind felt chilly against the burn of her cheeks.

"Looks like we got lucky," she said, and then widened her eyes because she did not just actually say that, did she?

Dean snorted. "I'd say," he managed, and then he was laughing helplessly again, and Buffy was right there with him.

She let him walk her back to Stevenson Hall, disheveled and glowing and probably smiling like an idiot, and he held her hand the whole way as if they were two innocent college kids out on a date. He left her at the front door of the building, leaning in to give her a soft kiss before releasing her.

"So I heard something about a nest of vamps a couple of miles to the east," he said, digging his hands into the pockets of his coat and looking for all the world like a kid trying to ask his crush out to the Spring Fling. "Thought I'd check it out before I left, if you want to come along."

It probably should have hurt more, the thought that he would eventually be leaving, but it didn't, because she had known what this was from the very beginning. There was nothing of the deep ache of Angel's abandonment or the sting of Parker's betrayal. This just felt...good. As if he had given her something as precious as she had given him, and they were both the better for it.

It made Buffy feel grown up, all of a sudden.

"You know where to find me," she said, and Dean gave her a quick, brilliant smile before backing away and disappearing into the dark like a shadow.

She knew it wouldn't be the last time she saw him.

 

**End**


End file.
